Traumatizing Nobunaga
by Yukitsu
Summary: Set after Lynlyn's Moral Lessons. Nobunaga's gone too far with his pranks, and Kurapika retaliates. The thing is, Kurapika's perfectly willing to use Kuroro for his cause. [Warning: Crack]


**Traumatizing Nobunaga. Again. **

by Yukitsu

_Disclaimers: _HxH is not mine. XD Wild Hearts Can't be Broken is not mine either.

Notes: Dedicated to Lynlyn and her less than nice day. XD And also, much thanks to her for proofreading this and giving me the idea for the fic in the first place. My stuff always ends up looking better when she betas for me. XD

Cross posted to the Livejournal community 30kisses. Theme: 5, Ano sa

This is set after Moral Lessons by Lynlyn, which in turn is set after Festivities by me. The three are likely to come way way way after Wild Hearts Can't Be Broken by Lynlyn.

* * *

"Nobunaga will tease you if you go back wearing that, I reckon," Kuroro said, expression straight as he pretended to analyze the blue-and-yellow shirt displayed behind the store's window that his companion was eyeing.

"Nobunaga," Kurapika bit out, jabbing an elbow at Kuroro's ribs, "Needs to learn to act his age."

"I think the same applies to you, Kurapika," the man chuckled, rubbing his side where the bony elbow had made impact. His earlier comment had its desired effect, however, because the blond turned away from the hideous shirt and proceeded down the street.

"You're still angry at him?" he asked, inwardly agreeing that indeed, his Spider should learn when not to cross the line. He wouldn't be surprised if Kurapika started directing his bad habit of planning out unholy vengeance upon the poor samurai, though he had to admit that it would disadvantageous to his group's activities. Former Ryodan exterminator against an exceedingly annoying Ryodan didn't seem to sound appealing.

"Just because it's the only thing he can insult me with doesn't mean that he has the right to abuse it," the blond snapped, stopping to examine an antique doll on a stand before moving on.

"Ah, so you admit to looking feminine?" Kuroro couldn't help it, really. And it was a good way as any to divert the blond's attention from imagining the rest of his group as bloody meat patties on the floor.

"I would expect an immature retort like that from someone like Nobu, but I thought that you, of all people, would deign to act according to your intellect."

A cold and diplomatic comeback; Kuroro knew that his efforts of breaking the tension had just been shot down to hell. He inwardly cursed the trio of troublemakers under him and hastened his steps to catch up to the young adult who suddenly decided brisk-walking through the crowd of late afternoon shoppers was the best thing to do.

"I thought you got used to it already," he said, reaching out for the Kuruta's shoulder as he slipped around a great ball of a woman waddling in front of him.

"Kuroro," Kurapika ground out, stopping in his tracks to turn around and glare at the man, "A samurai dressed in spandex, a man with no eyebrows, and an imp going through my belongings to draw metallic silver hearts and flowers on my underwear isn't something you get used to."

"Well… I have to admit the prank was tasteless—"

"Tasteless? What would you do if I drew little spider angels on your beloved leather coat in hot, glow-in-the-dark pink? Admit it; it was stupid, immature, and not something men of their age and _profession_ would do. It was spiteful and petty."

"Err…" Kuroro paused to think that over. "I would have punished you," he said with a smile.

Kurapika stared at him incredulously and turned around to continue walking angrily. "That is a most disgusting thought! Really, Kuroro, you are impossible! How can you bring that gross image into my head?"

The outburst had been unexpected – for a moment, the dark-haired man stood bewildered in his place, wondering what he had said to provoke such a tirade from the shorter man. When the implication of his statement dawned on him, it was all he could do not to laugh and groan at the same time.

"I didn't mean it that way," he said as he nimbly slipped past more shoppers. "Why are you going back to the hotel?"

"I'm going to check in another room, give my friends a call, and hope that they can offer me a more decent conversation," was the cool reply.

"But the hotel's packed," Kuroro pointed out.

"I'm a Hunter. I'm sure one of the hotels in this city can take me in."

"Kurapika… there's no need to go that far. I'll tell Nobunaga, Phinx and Feitan to give it a rest. You don't have to move out." He steered the Kuruta away from the crowd to a more-or-less empty alley and found himself inwardly sighing in relief when the blond didn't push him away.

"Telling them off won't do it, Kuroro. That is an empty action that won't bear results. You know that."

Uh-oh. Kuroro had known, even before they had started to be civil to each other, that Kurapika was stubborn to a fault. The same stubbornness made Kurapika difficult to please and pacify when angry. The fact that he could see behind every trick in Kuroro's book didn't help at all.

"What am I supposed to do, then?" Kuroro sighed, "At this point, I'm willing to do just about anything to keep you from gutting Nobunaga with his own sword and tossing him over a cliff."

That caught Kurapika's attention. "I know what you can do."

Despite the feeling of unease roiling in his gut, despite the warning bells wrecking havoc at the back of his mind, Kuroro raised an eyebrow questioningly for Kurapika to clarify.

"You have to scare him."

"Scare him," he echoed, not sure if he wanted Kurapika to elaborate.

"Traumatize him, make him know that I can use you for revenge when he annoys me and that I don't have any reservations about it," the younger man translated for him, taking on the look of a patient Mafia boss about to announce the death of the man in front of him.

_We've probably traumatized him half a dozen times already,_ Kuroro wanted to say, but he kept his silence and instead tilted his head to the side, waiting for whatever it was that Kurapika had up his sleeve. He had a vague idea of what he was to do, however, and no matter how brilliant he thought the strategy for effective revenge was, he couldn't exactly say he was pleased with it.

* * *

Kuroro didn't know how he got into these things, just that he knew who got him into them. He shot the serene blond one last pleading look, and upon finding no mercy at all, sighed and steeled himself as they made their way inside the raucous room of the Spiders.

At least the women weren't around, he thought as he avoided the looks Bonorenolf and Franklin quietly – and dubiously – gave him.

"Dancho, Kurapika, welcome back," Shalnark greeted, glancing up from the computer game he was playing against Coltopi to see what they had brought with them and promptly freezing, undecided between laughing out loud or giving him a horrorstruck stare. Shalnark, knowing how the mind of his leader worked and how dangerous it would be to piss him off by _laughing_ at him, decided to do the best thing and berate Coltopi for knocking his character out while Shalnark had been in a stupor. Coltopi didn't even blink.

Kuroro paid them no heed and fixed his gaze on the trio playing cards in the middle of the room. He was just about to approach them when Kurapika tugged at his wrist.

For a moment, Kuroro thought the blond had changed his mind. All hopes were shattered when the blond impishly grinned up at him, reached for his hair, and rumpled it thoroughly. "You have to look the part--"

"And having to wear this ridiculously pink and frilly dress shirt is _not _'looking the part'?" Kuroro hissed.

"--and your hair makes you look masculine," Kurapika continued, as if Kuroro hadn't said anything at all. Seeing as there was nothing to be done, the Dancho settled for discreetly fidgeting as his hair was smoothed back down and tucked behind his ears.

"Get a room, you two honeymooners," Phinx called over Feitan's head; Nobunaga sneered beside him. They had obviously mistaken the outfit as role-playing, some new kink, perhaps, that Kuroro thought of to get the blond to put his rather murderous energies to good use.

That was his cue.

"Hey," Kuroro chirped, practically sashaying his way to the three, "Can I join your game?"

"Uh. Sure. What's with the clothes?" Phinx said slowly, taken aback by the strange tone of voice. It almost sounded sultry. Kuroro smiled happily – too happily – and took the empty seat in front of the samurai, tugging the horrendous top down when it rode up his back. "We're playing Pairs."

"I know. It's the only thing you boys play. And Kurapika, the little darling, thought I should get a change in appearance." Kuroro was distinctly aware of eyes staring at him, and wished the ground would open up and swallow him, all the way to hell. The sounds of the video game had stopped, and he could here soft snickering from the spot where he was sure he had left Kurapika.

"Err. Right. Feitan, deal us?" Nobunaga cut in with a comment and a leer ("So the brat decided to turn you like him, huh?"), and Kuroro ignored him to beam at Phinx.

Kuroro wasn't too good an actor, but he knew he didn't completely suck. So when Nobunaga and Phinx gave him strange looks for his behavior ("Oh yes, Fei, do deal us!") as Feitan quickly distributed the cards, he didn't know whether to feel relieved or not that he seemed to be freaking them out.

"Ano sa, Nobunaga," Kuroro murmured delicately as he rapidly threw his pairs in the middle and held out his remaining cards for Feitan to pull one out from, "You look different today."

The samurai paled and stared at him. "Dancho?"

"He'd look better with his hair down, don't you agree?" Kuroro smiled at Phinx as he took a card from the bewildered man.

"Yeah, sure. With curls, even," Feitan answered for his usual partner as Nobunaga attempted to pull a card from him and completely missed.

Kuroro threw in another pair from his hand and held it up over his mouth to hide his forced giggle. "Fei's right." Behind them, he heard Kurapika half-cough, half-snort in amusement. Kuroro decided that after this, he would never attempt to get in the way of the blond's anger again. He should have learned the first time, really, but he supposed it was because he liked the aftermath of it so much he forgot about the… less than comfortable things before.

"Ah, I win," he announced cheerily, leaning forward on his elbows and cupping his face with his hands. Kurapika had unbuttoned his shirt earlier, and he attempted to display his non-existent cleavage as he did a poor imitation of the infamous 'Beautiful eyes'.

Nobunaga's eyes bulged, and he looked as if his face was trying to color itself green, purple, and white all at the same time. As Kuroro gave him a coy smile, it settled for a sick shade of puke. Idly, as he watched the samurai stutter in shock, he had to wonder how Nobunaga had interpreted his actions.

There was a burst of laughter somewhere in the direction of Shalnark, and Kuroro turned to see that Kurapika was doubled up, trembling, and obviously trying to contain his snickers in. Shalnark was blushing hotly, and Kuroro fancied that Coltopi's hair had turned greenish.

He looked at his companions around the table, and tentatively smiled at Nobunaga, who was giving him and Kurapika aghast looks. Phinx seemed like he was suffering from constipation, and Feitan looked like nothing out of the ordinary was happening at all. Franklin and Bonerolf were ignoring their whole lot. Smart people.

The Dancho cleared his throat and rose from his seat. "Got you, Nobu," he announced gravely as he quickly walked to the still laughing Kurapika. Nobunaga merely squawked.

"Dancho, err… Are you all right?" Shalnark asked hesitantly, and Kuroro felt his face heat up.

"Fine," he murmured, grabbing the still laughing Kurapika by the elbow and firmly pulling him to the direction of their room. As he closed the door, he heard Nobunaga's shrill scream of bloody murder and trauma. At least he knew that had worked. Perfectly, in fact.

He'll need to keep Pakunoda from finding out about this when she got back. He didn't think he'd be able to endure several years of strange looks shot his way. If he was lucky, he'd be able to 'borrow' Pakunoda's _Nen_ from her to erase the damned memory from existence. The lengths he was willing to go through….

"Superb acting, Kuroro," Kurapika gasped out between snickers. In retaliation, Kuroro pinned him to the wall.

"That was very embarrassing, Kurapika. Promise me you won't make me do that again, or else _I'll_check in another room." That had been a very lame threat, but it was the same one that had gotten him stuck in an itchy curtain of a shirt and a very embarrassing situation with his Ryodan.

"That's hardly fair." That stopped the laughing, though the still-blushing man could see traces of the amused smile on the Kuruta's face.

"I'm a criminal."

"Who just flounced in front of half his group, yes."

"I do _not _flounce," he said indignantly, closing in to completely and entirely pin the evil youth in the guise of an angel against the wall. "I am, however, very good at keeping my word."

"All right, all right, I promise." There was that twinkle in the younger man's eyes. Kuroro felt his chagrin ebb away to mild embarrassment, and he chuckled to share the amusement. If he thought about it and forced himself to forget which part he played exactly, he _could_ find it funny.

"He won't be bothering you for a while."

"Thanks to you."

He liked kissing Kurapika. Of course, he liked doing other things with the youth more, but kissing was high up on his list. Kuroro let go of his partner's wrists, placed one along Kurapika's waist, and let the other caress that angelic face.

"Collecting your reward?"

"Of course. My excellent flouncing skill has a high talent fee to go with it. Ah, no underwear?" The laugh that bubbled up from Kurapika's throat turned to a half-moan as the older man slid one hand under his pants and a thigh between his legs.

"I couldn't very well wear the ones that those horrible bullies touched, could I?"

"You're hardly someone who can be bullied." As Kuroro looked at his lover, head thrown back and lips apart, he decided that the physical quite contradicted what he just said.

"That's true." Red eyes flashed, and before Kuroro knew what was happening, he had been backed to a chair and his arms had been chained to its backrest.

"That's not fair," he protested, blinking up at the triumphant expression on Kurapika's face. If he remembered right, it was his turn to do the dominating.

"Says the pot to the kettle."

"You're not a criminal."

"My lover is." All protests died when the kissing started again. He really did like kissing. And a dominating Kurapika wasn't bad at all.

This time, there was no Nobunaga to barge in on them.

* * *

August 12, 2005 


End file.
